


For Asgard

by peik0nek0



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Beta Read, Tags May Change, Were AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9546398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peik0nek0/pseuds/peik0nek0
Summary: In the middle of the night, Tom's devotion to his art gets in the way of Chris's profesionalism a few hours before shooting.





	1. Prolog

Under the south starry sky, around two in the morning, a black Acura, makes its solitary way through the highway. It passes a wall of trees slowing the speed before turning left and entering Village Roadshow studios. It stops on what might be an empty giant parking lot if it were not for the little dark Volvo at the other side.

The driver is about to take out the key from the console when he receives a message. It's a retweet and more coming. All are pictures of Tom among fans, taken by fans in Brisbane. The first: a selfie with a lucky girl with uncountable desperate hands trying to reach him from behind as background. The legend reads, “One hour and a half and counting”. The last is Tom waving his hand from a charcoal volvo window with a multitude of adoring fans at both sides of the car, shared originally at 1:00 AM.

Following, a simple text from his agent: "Where were you?"

He saves the phone in his right hoodie pocket, picks the script from the front window, a juice from the cup holder and the keys. He gets out and closes unceremoniously the door.

\-------------------------------

Chris arrives at home at 10 to midnight. Two-year-old twins and a four-year-old girl run to him. 

“Hey, you should be sleeping!”, He says playfully as they approach.

They raise their little open arms and keep calling at him. He lifts them, one by one, listens to their enthusiastic convoluted conversation, and plays with them on the livingroom wooden floor.

An hour later, as he is up to left a  room on his toes and turn off the lights, he is stopped.

"Good night, daddy."

"Good night, Indi."

 His wife, equally tired, meets him with a smile in the lighted hall. They talk in whispers as they move away from their sleeping children.

 “How was your day, amor?”

“I should go now.”

“That bad, hu?”

“Naa..”, He smiles looking at her, “But if I lay down now, I won't be able to make it on time. They changed the schedule to accommodate some last minute promotions.”

“We watched you on the news. I got to explain to them that when people are sick you have to visit them. I thought it would be easier with you closer”, she says defeated.

“I thought that too”, he kisses her forehead.

 He had lost count of all the strings he had to pull in order for the production to move from the UK to homeland Australia, and still, he can’t have enough time with his family. But that’s the business, he reminds himself as he leaves his 4.2-hectare tropical haven with private beach. “Be grateful.”

\---------------------------------

 

He is driving in the middle of the night looking at the yellow lines on the road, regretting leaving his cozy bed. And there is Tom again, with his trading mark smirk and eye lines as he smiles, invading his thoughts.

There he is telling him to hurry up with a water bottle in his hand when he is training in the early morning.

There he is talking insensately in front of him in between shots at mid-morning.

There he is flirting with the camera as he tries to talk with the local reporters at lunch time.

There he is intensely engaged as they discuss scenes with Taika, the director, in the afternoon rehearsal.

There Tom is with his tea as he tries to finish the fifth of six daily meals.

There he is helping him as he tries to entertain the children and personal at the hospital at evening.

There he is telling jokes to the prop team as they left the characters behind with the removal of makeup and wardrobe.

There again he is charming fans as they walk through them.

 Then his PA grabs Chris from his arm and yells on his ear trying to get heard over the crowd.

 "5:00 first call at the studio".

 The PA walks him out, while Tom remains there smiling at him; always mocking him with his sugar rush energy level and easy disposition.

 He feels so old right now, and he is the younger of the two.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

Chris walks dragging his feet, his steps echoing in the grave silence of the studio streets. He is a mote in the darkness traversing through the tall windowless buildings that resemble giants barns while right beyond the studio walls is a sleeping amazing park.

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Darkness is filled with heavy breathing that suddenly stops as jangling keys are heard. At the other side of the door is Chris trying not to throw the script, nor the juice while he opens the door of his trailer. But as he enters the key, he notices it isn't locked. He goes in, anyway. The cleaning service might have forgotten to do it. He doesn’t turn on the lights, leaves the juice and script on the table by memory alone, and doesn't pay attention to the glass cylinder that is heard rolling as he advances to the bed.

 "Leave.", Tom says, stopping Chris on his tracks.

"Shit. I'm sorry.", Cris leaves the trailer the fastest he can, keeping as much composure as possible. He gets entangled in who knows what but manages to make his way out.

\--------------------------

 

Outside in the night breeze, Chris lets his back rest against the closed door and rubs his eyes. That was a huge mistake. He can’t remember another time in his whole life he had felt more mortified. He curses again under his breath. He turns his head to the trailer next to this one and reads the plaque on the door.

 "Tom Hiddleston"

 Just to be sure, he turns back and reads the one behind him.

 "Chris Hemsworth"

 He enters again, turns on the lights this time. As he approaches the bed he finds bed sheets, pillows, clothes, mini bar bottles and melting ice scattered through the floor.

 He stops in front of the bed, at the end of the trailer. There he has pale feet to his left and a curly head at his right. In a still voice, looking directly into the eyes of a sweaty, completely naked Tom, spread on his bed, he asks:

 "Is there something you wanna talk about, mate?”


	2. chapter 1

"Is there something you wanna talk about, mate?”

 

Tom declines slowly with the head from the unarranged bed, looking directly at his friend’s eyes.

Chris relax his body and lets scape a muted sigh of relief. Too much information could make their working relationship awkward and what he has in front of him is already too much information.

 

“Can I crash in yours?”

“The keys are somewhere on the floor.”

The buzz of the neon lights fills the narrow space while Tom taps his fingers over his abs and stares steadily at the ceiling. Chris picks Tom’s clothes among his own scattered dirty laundry and checks the pockets with no luck. He goes to his knees to see under the furniture. He finds a wallet close to a discarded pillow. His hands and knees get wet as he covers the ground. The floor has sticky puddles of beer, and what smells like his coconut oil. The minibar is open and depleted as well, as he assumes, is the tiny bathroom cabinet.

 

“Chris, do you mind?”, Tom cuts the tense silence.

Almost reaching the keyring under the minibar, enlarging to the limit his long fingers he replies, “I’ll be gone in a sec, then you could wank all you want.”

“I'm afraid I won’t be able to”, Tom says serine and compose, his British nature allowing him to find the most polite way to start giving bad news.

 

Unsure of what he had heard, Chris leaves the keys and turns around. When Tom rotate his head to the side to respond Chris’s demanding and baffled gaze. Chris slides swiftly his hand up and down, as if it were holding a tube. The seconds pass and Tom doesn’t smile at the gesture, instead he covers his eyes in shame with the palm of his hands. Concerned, Chris closes the minibar, raises up and sits slowly at the edge of the bed. Tom feels a twinge as the bed curves to receive the extra weight and crystal clicks are heard.

 

“Just think about something disgusting. It will go away”, he says tapping a shin.

“That's what I thought when I came here”, Tom replies still hiding behind his arms.

 

A weird combination of anger, sadness and relief shows on Chris’s face.

 

“I'm sorry, I meant we are from different species. You might even be a predator. That’s always a turn down.”, Tom uncovers himself to use his hands to apologize.

“Yeah. Not a fan of lamb though.”

 

Chris slightly lifts Tom’s feet to sit properly on the bed. The ache reflects again in Tom’s expression. A beer bottle sticks out under his glutes, but shame it’s redundant for what he is about to say.

“It got oversensitive. I can’t move. I have tried everything.”

“Everything?”, Chris descends Tom’s feet on his lap.

“I'm pretty flexible”, Chris nods; have been at Tom’s Yoga sessions. He has weights while Tom has breathing exercises.

 

He rubs his eyes, wipe his face to the jaw and let his arms fall to rest on his legs. A hiss of discomfort calls his attention back to the man on the bed. From the corner of his eyes he takes on the mess. Sweating beer bottles and melting ice all around and over oiled defined muscles, highlighted by the yellow light, soiling his disarranged white sheets. A dam beer ad without the censorship.

 

“I need a drink.”

“I’ll replace them, I promise.”

“Never mind. Can’t drink anyway. They are for the visits. Must stay fit until Infinity War is over”

 

Chris pulls his head back in defeat, not even allowed small comforts. He only wanted to sleep away his tiredness for a couple of hours. A sigh and a posture compose later, Chris puts his phone on Tom’s sleeky hands. 

 

“Watch porn, remember your best time. Whatever works for you, mate.”, he orders.

“What?”, Tom says completely confused while Chris holds his feet between his hands.

“Chris?”, Tom demands with some fright in his voice while the the bigger man warms up his feet rubbing them nervously.

“Change of plans”, Chris says moving his head to the side, “In three hours we need to report at makeup and wardrobe. And in three and fifteen they’ll find us here.”

“Me. They’ll find me”. Tom interrupts, with all the conviction he has he continues, “ I’d make up something. I’ll keep you out. You don’t have to worry about Elsa nor the kids”

“We are in the same boat Tom, if you sink we all sink. We’ll not ruin just this movie or our carriers. We’ll fuck up the next, a billion dollar cost movie and ten years of built up. The most successful franchise of all time. We’ll be lepers in L.A. Nobody in the business will want to have anything to do with us. The rest of the world will treat us as aberrations. Different species mating isn’t well  see.”

“Calm down. You're freaking out. We haven’t done anything.”

“The media won’t put it that way.”

“Maybe. But I don't see how porn would succeed where my hand couldn’t.”

“Ohhh”, It takes Tom by surprise, a slight pressure running across the arch of his foot pulling a cord to a place he didn’t know give pleasure, “Oook. How do you learn to do that?”

“Focus Tom”, Chris answers looking at nothing in particular at the floor.

He stays fixed at the screen for a while until Chris says, “Let's say I had generous partners.”

 

Listening that Tom finally pases the home screen that has as wallpaper a portrait of Chris’s perfect family. But he also has to brag about his perfect sex life, Tom thinks.

 

Anyway he had never gone without a fight. They have managed to pull of the comic book characters that everybody thought were unfilmable. Their friendship was forged in that shared goal. They could make out of this together.

 

He goes into a porn site and tries to choose something from all the naughty titles. Vanilla professionals remain all human during the whole act, that's what they were paid for. The fantasy of inconsequential sex, where fun isn’t dragged by feelings. While amateurs have a different catch. They were advertised as “couldn't hold up, changed in the middle of”, and of course there were else’s misfortune recorded for laughs “found out they were incompatible midway”. The dangers of not knowing with who you are sleeping with.

 

“Don’t dare look at the gallery, I don’t want you to use my wife”, Chris admonishes.

“You'd said whatever works for me”, Tom replies without leaving the screen.

“Give me that”, Chris tries to reach the phone but Tom avoids easily the far swap. 

“Relax. I won't. I promise”, Tom reassures. Chris goes back to massage the feet.

Tom looks Chris from behind the device some seconds before saying, “She has pretty hot ones on the internet.”

 

Chris raises his eyes to give him a killing stare, answered with a devil smile. Tom flips the phone to show the screen and turns up the volume; Two busty girls getting at it. 

 

“I wish Tay had some lewd ones”, Tom sighs.

“I can pass you your phone“

“Useless. They don’t allow her to do anything that diverges from her brand. Afraid of hackers, I guess. She was about to show me her new boobs when one of her entourage or PR team closed the laptop and left me all worked up. I couldn't distinguish who it was.”

“She is a pretty girl. I'm not playing her charms down, but it takes time to get that blue”, Chris points at Tom’s balls with his chin and lower lip.

“I’ve been holding up for the Golden Globes since the nominations. I wanted a memorable entrance, maybe get some females in the audience ovulating and the contagious screams that came with them”

“Using your power for the evil”, Chris hums.

“Is a tough path we’ve chosen. Not all of us are sexy felines, cute bunnies or marketable wolfs. I need to be resourceful to compete and use what I born with, although it’s a double edge sword, I as well react to their awakening lust. I didn't expect the Brisbane wellcome. It was overwhelming, almost as Hall H when I went as Loki. At least this time I could manage to get to my room before peeling off my clothes and call my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, were not used to Hollywood stars down here. Wait a sec. That's more than two months without flogging. It's dangerous, you know.”

“It's what the art demands. Give all every time while they want it, the next day they may not.”

“You take this too seriously. Might have sequels you know.”

“Were trying to cum here; making me contemplate impotence dosen’t help.”

“Right. Keep thinking about your girl.”

 

Tom sets his head back to the pillow. He closes his eyes to perceive the most of these new sensations. He bites his lips to conceal any reaction to himself. It comes slow and quiet for him, not like the exaggerated orgasms on the background. Precum leaks to his abs.

 

“Shit!”, Chris moves away his hands.

“Whe...where are you going?”, Tom lifts his upper torso from his elbows ignoring the soreness.

“It didn't work. There are just some drops”, Chris answers with frustration.

“No, no, no. It’s progress. It's more than what I got. Please, Chris let's try it again. I will concentrate this time.”

“Fine, but you gotta let me know what you’re liking. I need feedback. ok?”

**Author's Note:**

> It will get weirder. I promise.


End file.
